17. A busy evening continues.

“ What about his gag, Dr Keith? Do you think the patient is quiet enough?”

“I'd say Dr Fred did a good job. Call out for help or insult us, prisoner!”

“Mmmmblmm!” Philip desperately mumbled without any clarity as to what he meant, which did not prevent his new friends from trying to guess.

“Hey! That's not nice calling us such nasty names!” Lewis said before deviously adding, “We'll have to punish you.”

“Come on, Lewis! Cut him some slack!” Ben defended the bound and gagged recruit, “he's calling out for his mommy!”

They went on imagining what the well muffled shouts meant, Philip feigning despair as they made snider and snider remarks.

“Good gag, lads,” Billy commented. He fetched something in Ben's desk drawer.

“Just to add a smart touch.”

He sat back in front of Philip who looked at the black piece of material he held. He soon understood what it was for; Billy put his hands inside the tube-like piece of shiny stuff and pulled it over his head.

“Lewis made this lower face mask out of the Glidor swimsuits Ben got from the swimming team's sponsors.”

It was essentially the back panel of one of the black swimming briefs that had been sewn back at the hip seam and apparently carefully adapted with stitches here and there. It stretched tightly from just under his nose to his Adam's apple. A rubber loop dangled in front, which Billy pulled on top of his head, tightening the mask below his chin, with black nylon now pulled taut over the white tape.

Billy lightly brushed the lips covered by the many layers of various materials, sending a thrill through Philip's spine, overpowering him completely.

“Nice! Now you've got ten minutes to get out of this mess,” Lewis explained, “if you don't, we'll move on to another remedial therapy.

His five companions cheered Philip all along, encouraging him and giving him advice, but in the end it did no good. No twisting loosened the ropes, the knots were completely out of reach, and the soft white cotton network imprisoning him was much too thorough.

“Your time's up,” Lewis stated proudly as if he'd been the one responsible for this masterful display of skills. Being the next in line for the next round possibly made him this cheerful too. A knock on the door was heard as Lewis released the knots of the thread linking his wrists to his ankles, keeping Philip kneeling.

“Lads,” Travis said as he poked his head through the door, five pairs of eyes turning to him curiously, “dinner will be ready in half an hour. Everything all right so far?”

“Yes, thank you!” he heard from five merry mouths, the sixth one grunting an equally enthusiastic approval.

“Don't be late, then,” Travis said as he slowly closed the door.

“We won't,” Lewis piped, “I shall show you younsters how one can work fast. Therefore, Phil, you're going to help me demonstrate the 'pole tie'. Fred, Ben, I'll need your assistance.”

He turned to Keith and Billy; his grin conveyed the message he was taking up the challenge of being up to the level of their performance.

“This is a nice tie-up to cure any feistiness the patient may still be afflicted with,” he asserted.

To make his act different from his opponents', Lewis conducted the operation in silence. A few gestures, nods, and glances carried his instructions to Fred and Ben. It didn't take ten minutes before the task was properly performed. They had managed to release Philip from his previous bonds while getting him into others, so that he eventually stood against the bunk bed's seven-foot high foot, still as carefully woven in a new web of white cotton rope.

“Done!” Lewis said, “Aren't you boys impressed?” he asked, turning to Billy and Keith.

“Uh, this looks O.K.,” Keith replied, torn between fairness, which meant admitting the rope work was good, and his competitive spirit, making it hard to admit to Lewis he'd done well.

“OK?” Fred said with his eyes widening, “This is masterful, just look at it: the symmetry's perfect, the rope stretches just as it should, the captive is thoroughly anchored to the pole...”

Lewis brushed off any remotely negative comment by pretending he hadn't heard anything. He stood face to face with Philip, looking straight into his eyes.

“The best assessment will be performed by the prisoner himself. Release yourself from this top-notch entrapment, my friend!” he ordered, cheekily winking at Philip whose “mmph!” was a reply to the taunt and the ambiguous non-verbal message.

“This Lewis loves acting all grown up,” Billy thought, “he's annoying indeed, but this is really excellent. Phil can barely move a tenth of an inch. All these coils of rope are just neatly laid just at the six best places to restrain him, and the final criss-crosses of rope look great. This tie-up is inescapable!”

“Do get out of this, dear patient! Erm, not much to improve on the gag, you lads did a good job,” he said to Keith and Billy, further annoying them with this unexpected display of fair play. He slightly pinched Philip's shoulder, with a gaze implying he was performing some cruel and unusual torture.

“MMmmph!!?”

The poor pledge only got a few laughs in return. As he tried to escape, Billy and Keith encouraged him whereas the three others were commenting on how hopeless this all was. This verbal joust stopped as the given ten minutes were up, Philip having achieved no significant improvement over his captive situation.

“Time for dinner!” Lewis announced. “Doctors Fred and Ben, will you prepare the patient so he comes with us to the dining room?”

The two henchmen came up to the prisoner and released him from the pole.

Once he was freed from the endless yards of rope, his arms still bound behind and a one-foot hobble limiting any excessive movement from his legs, the little troop set off to the prefects' quarters, where Lewis had first been informed of the creation of their club.

“Come in and have a seat,” Travis greeted them. A large bowl of steaming soup stood on the table that had been set for seven guests.

“Cool! Pumpkin soup,” Ben exclaimed.

“Yuck, nice there's ham and cheese also,” Lewis said looking at the rest of the food on the table.

“Your mom would be proud of you frowning upon the food that's being served to you, no doubt,” Billy moralized, taking the opportunity of picking on Lewis. He had been brought up to be a pleasant guest, and to decline the second helping, but not to refuse rudely anything that was on the table.

Fred and Ben sat Philip at one end of the table and proceeded to restrain him to his chair. Then they removed his gag. Meanwhile, the other boys helped the food and took their seats.

“So, Philip, how has the investigation gone so far?” Travis inquired.

“Fine, fine. My friends know how to tie a knot,” Phil conceded.

As everybody started chatting about the ceremony, Lewis saw to it that Phil ate, spoon-feeding him his dinner as he had his own.

“Keith and Billy's kneeling hogtie was good,” Lewis said.

“You did O.K. with your pole tie,” Billy admitted. These praises were sincere, but remained a bit half-hearted. There was still some issue between Lewis and the “newbies”, but they had to behave in front of Travis.

The meal was quickly eaten, in an overall cheerful and friendly atmosphere.

All of the boys would have traded this weekend against nothing in the world. When everybody was done with dessert --apples, Philip's having been crammed in his mouth by Lewis to everyone's delight until he helped him out-- Keith and Billy offered to do the dishes, which Travis gladly accepted. This was not only to act polite, but because they knew what came up next. Travis turned to Philip.

“For the last step, the recruit has to display his knots skills on a real subject. Who do you want for a model, Philip?”

Philip remained with his mouth slightly open, as if in shock of the news. He quickly recovered, though, and turned to the friend who'd fed him dinner. The corners of his mouth slightly curved upwards in an almost imperceptible feral grin.

“If Keith and Billy are cleaning up, I guess, uh, Lewis, I'll try my luck on you.”

“This has nothing to do with luck, it's all about skills,” he replied.

He slowly stood up and released the black-haired boy from his chair. The authoritative and know-all tone got a smile from the boys back at the sink as they looked at each other; but nobody said anything about Lewis' condescending words. Travis moved on to giving instructions:

“All right, Philip. Show us how you tie someone to a chair. Lewis, let's pretend you were knocked out. He's got two minutes before you struggle.”

Lewis sat on the chair that had hosted his now captor. He closed his eyes, pretending he was unconscious. Philip grabbed his waist from behind, making sure he was up against the back of the chair, and dragged his arms over the highest rung.

With one of the short pieces of rope at hand, he wrapped his wrists around, threading the cord around the lower rung before pulling it back between the wrists and cinching the existing loop tight. He then kneeled in front and quickly restrained his ankles in a similar manner.

“I might need some more rope later on,” he said as he grabbed a longer one that was on the table and wrapped Lewis' arms just below his shoulders.

“You'll have to go and get some,” Travis said, “and the two minutes are up, so you'd better be sure he won't escape.”

Lewis painstakingly lifted his eyelids, playing the part with heart.

“W... Where am I?”

Keith and Billy chuckled at the poor acting, whereas Ben and Fred looked admiringly at their leader, who was making so much effort into making Philip's initiation a success. They expected he'd be out of the ropes in no time.

“Well, well, well... It seems the little snoop is coming around,” Philip smirked, Billy amazed by his villain impersonation. From the football club, he never had seen this side of the new recruit. Philip grabbed a couple of paper towels from a pile in the middle of the table. Lewis, right on cue, said the expected line in an outraged tone.

“Untie me this minute, you filthy rogue, or elsmmmmphmmbllm!”

The cellulose ball crammed into his mouth muffled any further protests. Once a scarf cleave-gagged him, it was there to stay.

“I'm not done with you,” Philip said, after binding his knees together.

He rushed back to his room to gather the supplies that had been left behind and that he could use. His hands were full when he came back. Keith and Billy were done with the dishes, so everybody was commenting on Lewis' squirming and wriggling.

Philip drew near, an inquisitive look on his face. The ropes held good; he ran his fingers over them to check which ones had loosened. He just tightened those around the upper arms. He took some coils out of the lot he'd brought back; he made a thick belt at the waist, wrapped quite a few turns around his thighs and under the seat, and tied each elbow individually to the chair. A few shorter ones were used to link and reinforce those already there. An eventual plastering of the lower face with tape and the fitting of the Glidor mask completed the job.

“See if you can get out of that, Lou,” Philip said, “before the crocodiles are released and come to devour you. Then I'm sure you won't meddle with my business anymore. Mwahaha!” He played an excellent villain.

Travis started the timer on his watch.

“Come on, Lewis,” Keith said, “a king of the knots like you should get out of this in no time.”

Such comments were made throughout the ten minutes allocated to the escape attempt. They obviously infuriated the prisoner, who put all his might into trying. However, as Travis declared the ten minutes over, Lewis had only managed to loosen the rope around his left wrist a tad, and would have needed much more time to get it out of it.

“You may set him free, Philip,” Travis stated.

One by one, Philip untied the ropes, coiling them neatly as he went. He removed those tying his wrists last, leaving Lewis handle the gagging set-up himself.

“That was quite a tie-up,” the freed prisoner acknowledged, “uh, you passed the test as far as I'm concerned, Phil. What do you think, lads?”

“That you're a lousy escape artist?” Keith smirked, “No, seriously, Philip can tie knots.”

All the others approved, cheered up and greeted Philip, who had seldom experienced such bliss, and such a feeling of belonging.

“You passed the test with flying colours,” Lewis concluded, “and it's getting late, so you boys go to bed now. Curfew in twenty minutes. You'd better get some rest to be in shape tomorrow. You'll need to be.

All six boys walked back to their rooms, and the jokes and the promises of revenge fainted within minutes. Travis was glad to see that all lights were out and everything was silent long before the announced time. They all lay in their bed, thinking of what the next day would bring.

© Copyright Bondwriter 2007

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